


the man in yellow in the living room with the knife

by sunkelles



Category: Pushing Daisies, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossover, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, POV Third Person Omniscient, minor ned/chuck, pre westallen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: When Nora Allen is murdered, young Barry Allen hires Private Investigator Emerson Cod to prove that his father didn't commit the crime. Joe West doesn't believe that Henry Allen is innocent, but cares about Barry enough to look into the matter with Cod and his partner Ned, a Piemaker who can wake the dead.





	the man in yellow in the living room with the knife

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: The episode of Pushing Daisies that inspired this actually involved a kiddo going to Emerson about the murder of his mother, Nora to try to clear his father’s name. It was just ASKING for me to flash-ify it. 
> 
> Also, a note on style: I’ve been trying to duplicate the omniscient narrator style of Pushing Daisies, so if it feels like it abruptly switches POV that might be why. But if you notice a really jarring one that takes you out of the story, please point it out to me. This is a new style I’m toying around with and if I don’t do a good job with it I wanna know so that I can improve upon it.
> 
> Also, wtf is a tense? i normally write in present tense and i'm writing in mainly past i this and idk if it really worked. let me know if anything seems out of place tensewise

Coeur d’Coeurs is the weirdest part of the Central City metro area. It isn’t considered dangerous, like parts of Keystone or downtown, it’s just strange, whimsical even. Strange things happen in Cour d’Coeurs, and all of Papen County, and strange people live there. Once, when Barry’s parents both had a day off, they took him there just to browse the small shops and look around.

  
During the midafternoon, when they were ready to drive back home, they stopped at this little pie shop. The outside of the building showed a stucco rendition of a pie, and it had a neon flashing sign displaying the name of the joint: The Pie Hole. They sat down at a booth by a window, and a perky blonde waitress took their orders. Barry got a slice of apple pie because that was his favorite pie his mother would make. A minute later, the waitress came back with three slices of pie.

“Your apple pie is better, mom,” Barry said, with all the certainty that only a little boy could have. She sent him with a soft, warm smile.

“Maybe,” his mother said, “but I can’t make a strawberry pie like the Piemaker here. Or that rhubarb. That’s just superb.” Barry frowned. He wasn't sure that he believed that.

“Here,” his mother said, passing him her slice of strawberry, “take a bite of mine.” He took a bite, and found that he liked it far better than the apple. He decided that it was delicious, actually.

“Have some of mine too, slugger,” his dad said. He took a bite of his dad’s rhubarb, and discovered that it’s his favorite.

“You know I don’t like that nickname, Henry. It encourages violence.”

“Barry only picks the fights that he has to, don’t you son?”

“Yeah,” Barry said, “I don’t wanna fight people I don’t have to.” The only fights that Barry had ever actually picked are over kids being mean to Iris. Barry Allen was of the opinion that there was no cause more worth fighting for than Iris West's honor. 

“That’s my beautiful boy,” his mother said. If the boy’s mother would have lived longer, he might have become embarrassed by that nickname. She did not, however, and young Barry Allen never had a chance to become lanky teenager Barry Allen before his mother stopped calling him her beautiful boy.

“I see you’re not eating your pie,” his dad said.

“Well, it’s not like mom’s.” Barry had decided not to finish it on principle.

“You know what, take mine. I’ll finish up your apple,” his dad said.

“Really?” Instead of answering, his dad picked up his slice of apple pie and shoved a bite in his mouth.

Once he finished chewing his first bite, his dad asked, ““You know what people say about this place?” Barry didn’t answer, and instead took a big bite of strawberry pie.

“What do people say, dear?” his mom asked, with the sort of patience only a woman who has listened to her husband spout conspiracy theories can.

“People say that everyone that works at this restaurant is a private investigator,” his dad told him, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Now why would private investigators work in a restaurant that serves pies?”

“I don’t know, honey. That’s just what people say.”

“You’re saying that Sherlock Holmes works at a pie joint?” his mother asked with a skeptical look in her eye.

“No, just Emerson Cod.”

“ _The_ Emerson Cod?” his mother asked, her eyes widening.

“Who’s Emerson Cod?” Barry asked. The image that graced Barry’s eleven year old mind, of course, was that of a fish with a Sherlock Holmes style detective hat.

“He’s the most famous PI in the city,” his mother said, “people say he’s solved more murders than the police these past few years.”

“I think that Joe would argue with you on that one, but yeah, that’s the word around town.” Town, of course, was the entire Central City metro area, with a population roundabouts two point five million.

“Barry, if you ever need something investigated, you should come here,” his mom said seriously. His father sent her a confused look.

“What’s he going to need investigated, the death of his fish?” Barry had gotten a few fish at the county fair a few weeks ago. They all died within a week, and Barry had been disappointed about it for nearly a month afterwards.

“You never know,” his mother said, with a wide, teasing smile, “those fish might have been murdered.” The rest of their time at The Pie Hole progressed much like that, and then they drove home. Barry had not thought about their trip to Coeur d’Coeurs in months. It hadn’t been that eventful, but now, young Barry Allen is much in need of a private investigator.

Now his mother has died, and his father has gone to jail for it. He has to get back to The Pie Hole to hire himself a PI. That had been his mother’s suggestion, and if there’s anything young Barry Allen knows is that his mother knows what she’s talking about. _Knew_ what she was talking about, he corrected. It will be difficult to remember to think of his mother in the past tense for days, and then it won’t be difficult to remember but will be difficult to deal with.

At this moment in time, that had not occurred yet. His mother is freshly dead and his father is freshly arrested. Barry knows that proving his mom innocent will be his job. Mr. West and the rest of the police force are completely convinced that his dad did it. Young Barry Allen catches a cab to The Pie Hole, which is a full forty five minute’s drive away from the West house.

“Thank you,” Barry said, giving the cabbie the twenty dollar bill he got for his birthday a month ago.

“This is just twenty dollars,” the cabbie said, starring at the bill.

“Do you want my piggy bank too?”  Barry offered. The boy knew that he needed the rest of that money to hire the PI, but he didn't think that he should leave the cabbie hanging either. The cabbie frowned.

“Keep it, kid.” Then he rolled down the window, and left Barry standing on the curbside. Barry knew that he was in the right place, at least. The Pie Hole was a distinctive building. Barry took a deep breath, and threw open the doors of the establishment.

“Emerson Cod?” he asked, loudly enough that the whole restaurant could hear him.

“Yeah,” a tall, Black man in a suave looking suit said, “that’d be me. Why you looking?”Barry knew that he should introduce himself, or tell Mr. Cod that he wanted to hire him, but he was nervous and sad and angry.

What came out was, “My dad didn’t kill my mom. He didn’t! That’s why I’m here. I need you to clear my father’s name.” A short, blonde woman standing behind the counter gasps.

“You’re Henry Allen’s kid, aren’t you?” Barry nodded, and set his jar full of money on the table.

“This is my entire life’s savings.” He knew that it wasn't much, but he hoped that Mr. Cod would still take the case. Barry _needed_ him to take the case.

“Sorry kid, but the man’s already been arrested. There ain’t much we can do.” There were of course, many things that Emerson Cod could do. He was simply trying to make excuses for why he did not want to take this case. He thought there were maybe twenty dollars in that kid’s piggy bank and that this was an unsolvable case. Those two things combined do not a happy prospect for private investigating make.

“If you prove that it wasn’t him, then there is. His trial hasn’t happened yet. There’s still time.”

“I’m sorry, kid, but I’m not taking the case.”

“Would you like some pie?” awkwardly asked the tall, white man with the prominent eyebrows. 

“Yes please,” Barry said, glaring at Mr. Cod. The Piemaker placed a slice of apple pie in front of him. Barry took a bite. And then he was crying. It was not as good as his mom’s apple pie, but it still reminded him of her.

“There, there,” the blonde woman said, patting him awkwardly on the back like she was burping a baby. Then, the door opened. 

“Barry!” a voice shouted. That voice, of course, was Joe West.

“How did you find me!” Barry squeaked.

“I’m a detective, Barry. I can track you across town.” He walked to the counter, and sat down at the empty bar stool beside Barry.

“What are you even doing at a pie shop in Coeur d’Couers?”

“Hiring a private investigator,” Barry said firmly. Joe sent him an incredulous look.

“What do you need a PI for?”

“To prove that my dad’s innocent, because _no one believes me_.” The Piemaker felt awkward and unsure of what to say. Olive Snook felt ready to burst into uncomfortable song. Emerson Cod just felt angry.

“I care about you kid. Please, just come home. Iris is worried about you.”

“You just want me to shut up about this!” Young Barry Allen had angry tears in his eyes.

“Barry, I care about you. But your dad killed your mom. Hiring some PI isn’t gonna change that.” Perhaps it was the implication that Emerson Cod couldn’t do whatever he set his mind to. Perhaps it was the grown man dismissing the boy’s input. Perhaps it was simply because he could, but Emerson decided, there and then, that he was going to take this case.

“It might,” private investigator, Emerson Cod said. 

“What do you mean, it might?” Detective Joe West says.

“I’m the best PI in town. If anyone can prove that boy’s dad didn’t kill his mom, it’s me. I’m taking the case.”  He picked the mason jar full of coins up off of the counter. Young Barry Allen grinned. 

“I’m Barry’s guardian. _I’m_ in charge of protecting him now, and you’re not just gonna take his money to go on a wild goose chase.”

“I’ll do whatever I please. If the kid wants me to investigate his mother’s murder, I’ll investigate his mother’s murder.” Joe West realized that there’s no way to get out of this. Emerson Cod set his mind to this case, and he wasn't going to change it.

“Alright, I won’t stop you.”

“Good.”

“I’ll investigate with you,” Joe said. 

“Not good.”

“What do you mean, not good?”

“I agreed to take on a case. I didn’t agree to take on a cop.”

“Well, they’re the same thing. If you wanna investigate this, you’ll investigate it with me.”

“Wait, really? You believe me?” Young Barry Allen had not expected to find any support from his new guardian.

“This is important to you, important enough for you to travel halfway across the city. I’m willing to at least give it a chance.”

“Thank you, Joe,” Barry said. He sent Joe a smile that warmed his heart. Joe West had always wanted a son. He never expected that one would come to him in the form of an eleven year old white boy, but he did not find himself complaining either. Barry took his last bite of pie.

“Let’s get you home, kid. Iris is worried about you.” The first time that Joe mentioned Iris, Barry seemed too angry and distracted to really latch onto it. This time, however, Barry latched onto the statement immediately. Barry Allen, of course, always has and always will love Iris West.

“I don’t want Iris to worry,” Barry said earnestly. They drove back from the strange Central City suburb, and get back much later than Iris was expecting them. Iris West, of course, was worrying.

“Where were you,” Iris demanded, with all of her eleven year old authority.

“Coeur d’Couers,”

“Coeur d’Couers?” Iris parroted back, shock in her voice. They moved to the couch, gossiping about everything that happened that night. Joe decided to leave them to it, and pretended that he had a very important case to go work on upstairs. If they were still awake when Joe went to bed, he would make them scatter and sleep. But until then, he did not mind them staying up, chatting away and having a good time. Barry’s the best friend he could imagine having his daughter having. He won’t come between the two when they need some time together like this, even when they have school in the morning.

 

Joe West did not have to go to work the next morning. That did not mean he could sleep in. He still had to drive the kids to school, and then he had to drive all the way to Coeur d’Couers to meet up with the private investigators he promised to help. He doesn’t think that Emerson Cod will find out anything that the police didn’t, but Barry wants him to try and he’ll give it a chance. He drove to Couer d'Couers, and then walked right into The Pie Hole. 

“Detective West,” Emerson Cod said, looking up from his slice of pie, “I was hoping you wouldn’t show.”

“Well. I did. Where are we starting?”

“The morgue?”

“She was stabbed in the chest multiple times, what do you think you’re gonna get out of that?”

“I don’t know,” Emerson said, “but I haven’t seen the body yet. Maybe there’s something worth seeing.” Joe West was friends with Nora, and better friends with Henry. He doesn’t think that any part of her mutilated corpse will tell a different story than the one he knows happened, no matter how much he wanted something different to have happened. A white woman with soft brown hair and a warm smile walked up to the counter. 

"Are you two going to the morgue?" 

"We are. Wanna come, dead girl?" Emerson Cod said. 

“Dead girl?”

“An affectionate nickname,” The Piemaker said suspiciously, because he was a bad liar and was telling a large lie, “we all like to tease Chuck about not going out much.”

“Might as well be dead with how much I get out,” Chuck said, smiling large and awkward.

“Whatever,” Joe West said. He wasn’t here to judge the inner workings of the Pie Hole Private Investigative Team. He was here to soothe a boy that he cared about very much and put his doubts to rest. Then, Joe thought, maybe he could begin mourning his mother and dealing with what Joe _thought_ was the fact that his father had murdered her. Joe West, of course, was wrong. Henry had not murdered Nora, and the body was worth seeing for completely different reasons than he expected. He not know this, though, because he did not know the Piemaker’s secret. He did not know that the man could not only make pies, but wake the dead.

“I think that I’d better sit this one out,” Chuck said, leaning against the counter. Emerson nodded tersely in response. The Piemaker took off his apron, and shoved it under the counter.

“Are you two ready to go?” Emerson asked. When no one complained, Emerson started towards the door. The Piemaker had to jog to catch up to them.

“Why are you bringing the pie guy anyway?”

“Ned’s my assistant. He’s got an eye for detail.”

“Who said anything about being an assistant? I’m your partner.” Emerson Cod shrugged. Under other circumstances, he would not have minded admitting that Ned was his partner. Joe West, however, was a detective. As a private investigator, Emerson had been looked down at by many members of the public sector of investigation. He did not want this detective to think that he needed the Piemaker’s help, even though he appreciated it dearly. The three men drove over to the morgue in Emerson Cod’s small, black car.

A small, black car was not the greatest choice of vehicle when all three occupants were over six foot tall. Emerson took the driver’s seat and gave himself as much room as he wanted. Joe West was the second out the door of The Pie Hole, and was able to sit in the front seat. He pushed the seat back far enough back that he wascomfortable. All six feet and five inches of Ned the Piemaker were shoved in the middle of the back, where there was slightly more room than the two sides where the seats have been pushed back as far as possible.

If this were a television show, it would have been a funny sight: Emerson Cod and Joe West glaring at each other but sitting comfortably in the front seat, and enormous Ned the Piemaker curled up in himself in the back between them like a child trying to ride out a fight between his parents. The metaphorical parents have not stopped fighting by the time that they arrive at the morgue. Emerson stopped the car, and immediately got out. Joe followed suit. Ned the Piemaker was left all alone in the backseat.

“Emerson? Detective West?” Ned squeaked from the backseat. The Piemaker realized that no one was going to move their seats up to help him get out of the seat easier. He squeezed behind one of the seats and then opened the door and followed the other two into the morgue. They looked around the morgue, bribed the mortician while Joe bit his lip and turns away, and then went to examine Nora’s body. She was lying on the morgue table, still in the same bloody clothes she died in. Joe found himself feeling like some morbid voyeur staring at Nora’s dead body after it was absolutely nothing. He turned away, and looked on at the white walls instead.

“She’s dead, alright,” Emerson said.

“Was that really a question?” Joe retorted. Emerson shrugged.

“You never know,” Emerson said. As a close friend and confidant of Ned the Piemaker, Emerson knew that oftentimes people who appear to be dead aren't really dead. 

“Do you think you’re going learn anything from this?” Joe asked. He felt awkward standing in this room without a purpose. If Emerson wasn’t certain he could learn something from Nora’s body, he would prefer not to stay in this room. Joe West did not know that Emerson Cod had no intention of learning something from Nora Allen’s body by himself. That was The Piemaker’s job.

“How about we go interview the rest of the morgue staff?” Emerson suggested.

“I want to take a closer look,” Ned said, “but you two can look around.” Joe West knew that there was no good reason for a Piemaker to want to stay behind, but he did not mention it. He wanted the two strange PIs to let their guard down so he could figure out exactly what they were doing. Both Emerson and Ned just wanted Joe out of the room, and Joe knew that. He was not sure what they wanted to do to Nora’s body, but he didn’t approve. Joe left the room with Emerson, and he let the door slam behind them.

“Alright,” Joe said, “so where should we go first?” Emerson looked ready to speak, but then a murmur started from behind the door.

“How about far from here,” Emerson Cod said, “all the way across the building.” Joe, however, had already heard the murmur, and knew that something very wrong was going on. He threw the door open and stormed into the room. Nora Allen, who was dead the last time he looked at her, was sitting up on the morgue table with the bloodstains still prominent on her shirt. Joe could see the stab wounds through the holes in her top.

 “How is Nora sitting up?” Joe asked, his eyes widening.

“Oh, Joe!” Nora said, turning her head unnaturally far to look at him, “it’s so good to see you! How is my son!”

“Barry’s alright,” Joe said, his voice catching in his throat, “I’m taking care of him for you.”

“Why are you taking care of him? Shouldn’t Henry be doing that? Or is he dead?” Joe thought that Nora seemed much too concerned for her husband’s welfare for a woman who was just killed by him.

“Did… did Henry not kill you?”

“Of _course_ Henry didn’t kill me, Joe.  It was the man in the yellow suit, in the living room, with the knife.” Nora smiled like she just made a phenomenal joke.

“Really?” Joe asked.

“Yes, Joe, really. I’m not just quoting Clue. A man in yellow killed me. There was lightning everywhere, and he moved faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s what Barry said,” Joe West said. For the first time since Barry recounted the story of his mother’s murder to him, Joe West finally believed him.

“Oh no, Barry saw?” Nora asked, sounding terrified by the prospect. Nora Allen might be a dead woman, but she was a mother first and foremost. 

“Yeah, he did.”

“And they arrested Henry for my murder, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” Joe said, “that’s why Barry’s with me. We all- we all thought that he did it.”

“You were Henry’s best friend, Joe. How could you think that he killed me?”

“All the evidence seemed to point there,” Joe said, feeling guilty, “It just- it was the only thing that seemed plausible.” Emerson Cod was not a fan of people getting emotional during their allotted one minute of alive again. He wanted answers, not Nora Allen and Joe West’s neighborhood soap opera.

“Can you give us any more description of the man in yellow that killed you?”

“He moved faster than I could see, like something out of a superhero movie. Like that X-Man- Quicksilver. ”

“Your time’s almost up,” The Piemaker said. Nora’s eyes widened. She took Joe’s hand, and squeezed.

“Take care of my son, Joe. Tell him that I love him.” The Piemaker touched Nora’s hand, and she glowed for a moment. Then she fell back to the table, dead. Her hand went cold in Joe’s grasp, and he let go of it.

“What the hell just happened here?” Detective Joe West demanded. Private Investigator Emerson Cod glared.

“Someone couldn’t even wait until we were out of range to use his special finger powers.” Emerson accused. The pie maker dead waker looked contrite.

“I bake pies and wake the dead. It’s what I do.”

“You bake pies and wake the dead,” Joe said hollowly, “and this is just- what? This is just normal for you?”

“Yeah, kind of. It’s just a fact of life at this point.”

“That woman said she was killed by a superhero," Emerson Cod said, "Strange shit is going down in these parts. Ned’s just part of it.” Joe sighed, but decided that there wasn’t anything he could do about this crazy shit. He saw Nora sit up. He had a conversation with her. He knew that this was real, no matter how much he didn’t want to believe it.

“You know that kid’s dad didn’t kill his mom. We proved that.”

“The word of a dead woman’s not gonna pass in court, unless you can do it again in court?”

“No, it only works once. Nora Allen’s dead for good now,” The Piemaker said.

“You really think that would pass in a court room in the first place? Hey there judge Judy, I'd like to call the murder victim to the stand." 

"Please don't even suggest that," The Piemaker said. Emerson Cod looked contrite, but he didn't apologize. He only apologized under the most dire circumstances, and the Piemaker's small, mostly baseless bit of panic wasn't the most dire circumstances. Unless, of course, Joe West did try to make the Piemaker's powers public knowledge. Emerson Cod is smart enough to change the subject to lessen the chances that might actually happen. 

“You just have to prove that kid’s dad didn’t do it now to the court. Simple.”

“Do you mean that you’re done with the case?” Joe asked.

“I’m sorry,” Emerson said, “but I promised that I’d prove that kid’s dad didn’t murder his mom. What we uncovered, I don’t think that even I can prove that to the court.” Emerson Cod does not feel qualified to keep pursuing this lead. He will, however, if it's necessary for his friend's safety. 

“Is the great Emerson Cod backing away from a challenge?”

“Yeah, I am." 

"Well, I guess I gotta respect that," Joe West said. He respected someone who knew when to back away from a fight. Emerson Cod felt much more comfortable with the state of the Piemaker's secret after hearing that. 

"Sorry, I just can’t afford to follow this to completion. There might not be a completion on this.” Oh god does Joe understand that. Before he’d actually talked to Nora’s corpse, he had been convinced that Henry did it and the man was his best friend.

“Yeah, I just gotta prove that _Quicksilver_ did it,” Joe said, and he knew how ridiculous it sounded. Joe might be a respected Detective, but he’d still be laughed out of the courtroom for that.

“Good luck with that, West,” Emerson Cod said. Emerson Cod was not a sincere person. He said “I Love You” through a decrease in insults and nicknames that could still be misconstrued that way. He was, however, completely sincere with this. He found that he liked both young Barry Allen and Detective West. He wanted things to go their way. As an estranged father himself, Emerson Cod wanted nothing more than to see a father reunited with his child.

“Thank you, Cod. I guess I’ll take it from here.” Emerson Cod nodded, and then the two parted ways. Both decided to keep looking into the case. Neither of them found anything. It seemed that proving a superhuman in a yellow suit murdered someone was a lot harder than convincing people the husband did it.

Joe assured Barry that he was looking into it, but hadn’t come to any conclusions yet. He was working to find the answers, but he wasn't sure he could get Henry off the hook. In the end, he couldn't. Henry Allen was convicted of first degree murder with a single life sentence.

There were at least three “I hate yous” mixed in with Barry's tears, but really who counted? Joe West counted, of course, and each one felt like a blow. He knew that he needed to make a change now. He wasn’t any closer to proving that Henry hadn’t killed Nora since the woman sat up and told him that. Joe had hoped to prove that Henry hadn’t done it and surprise Barry all at once with both the news that Joe knew the truth and was able prove it.

It has become increasingly obvious that won’t happen. Joe decided that he had to tell him, today. Barry deserved to know that while Joe had found out his father was innocent, he couldn’t find any proof.  Joe knew exactly where he wanted to tell this to Barry. He got the kids and drove all the way to Couer d’Couers for a slice of pie and some frank conversation. Iris was not impressed.

“Why did we drive all the way across town for pie?” Iris asked skeptically, looking up at the stucco pie coating the building.

“You’ll see,” Joe promised.

“Emerson Cod,” Joe said. The first time that they met, Joe said his name with disdain. Now he said it with respect. Talking to a dead woman together certainly helps two people forge a bond.

“Detective West,” Emerson Cod said, “I’m surprised to see you here.” Barry wasted no time rushing to Emerson’s side at his booth.

“What did you find out?” Barry asked, “Joe won’t tell me.”

“Your father didn’t kill your mother,” Emerson said.

“Really?” Barry asked with a look of hope in his eyes. Iris looked hopeful too. This time, Joe was the one to respond.

“We don’t have the evidence to prove it, but we know that’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Barry asked with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Barr. I wanted to have enough evidence to get your dad out of jail and then tell you both things at once. It didn’t end up going that way.”

“So you know dad’s innocent, but you can’t prove it?” Barry was hit by an entirely different sort of pain than the pain he’d felt earlier. Now, he and Iris were no longer isolated in their belief that his father was innocent. They had adults on their side, but there was still nothing that they could do about it. Barry couldn’t tell whether or not this was worse. Young Barry Allen could feel the tears in his eyes. Iris put a hand on his back.

“I’m sorry, Barr,” Joe said, “but I promise I’m never gonna stop trying to prove that your dad didn’t do this.”

“Thank you,” Barry said. He tried to fight off the tears, but it didn’t really work. Olive Snook, former jockey, accomplished musical theater actress and pie waitress extraordinaire, walked up to the crying boy. She took out her pad and pen and looked at the three of them with a purpose.

“How about you slide into that booth, and I get you three slices of pie on the house?”

"We don't have to stay," Joe reassured Barry. 

“No, no,” Barry said, “we drove all this way. We should have some pie.” Joe slid into one end of the booth, and then Iris and Barry slid into the other side. 

“So, what can I do you for?”

“You have any suggestions, Barr?” Joe asked.

“My mom loved the strawberry pie, but dad and I liked the rhubarb better.” Young Barry Allen’s voice sounded properly pained as he talked about happier times.

“Do you want to go home, kid? We don’t have to stay and have pie.”

“No,” Barry said, shaking his head, “I want to stay.” Barry wanted his parents to be here, but he knew that he couldn’t have that. He wanted to make the most of this and have a good time with Iris and Joe.

 “I’ll have a slice of rhubarb, please,” Barry said. His voice was firmer this time. Young Barry Allen had gotten a better grip on where and when he was. He was with Iris and Joe.

“I’d like some peach, please,” Joe said.

“Do you have anything with brownies?” Iris asked with wide, excited eyes.

“Sure, sweetie. We’ve got a strawberry pie with a brownie crust.” Iris West grinned.

“I want that, please.”   Olive Snook smiled at her.

“I’ll be back in a minute with three slices of pie.” As Olive walked to the back to get the slices of pie, Ned the Piemaker and Chuck the alive again girl watched the father, the daughter and the best friend. The daughter and the misplaced son were sharing secret smiles and laughter that the two realized were quite similar to the ones that they shared as children. Neither Ned nor Chuck would have noticed the similarity in the touches if Barry were Bella or Iris were Ivan, but Barry was Barry and Iris was Iris, and their childhood crushes did nothing to challenge either party’s heteronormative worldview.

 “You think those two will get together someday?” Ned asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Chuck said, with all the certainty of a woman dating her childhood sweetheart. Iris batted at Barry’s hand in response to some joke she told that Chuck and the Piemaker weren’t privy to.

“At least they’ll be able to touch,” Ned the Piemaker said.

“Not when they’re both living under her daddy’s roof,” Chuck said. Ned burst into laughter. He was, of course, remembering how difficult it was for them for the brief period that Chuck’s father was around for their relationship. He could not imagine what it would be like having her father in the middle of it for the whole duration of the relationship. Perhaps he was not so jealous of the two children after all.

The two Wests and the one Allen sat together in their booth. They each took a bite of each others’ pieces of pie and decided that they liked their own slice the best. Joe took another bite of peach pie, and finally said what he’d been working up to say.

“We’ll go visit your dad tomorrow, just the two of us.”  

“Wait,” said Barry, who had tried to run away to visit his father on multiple times, “really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You mean the _three_ of us,” Iris corrected.

“This is a high security prison, Iris. It isn’t safe.”

“It’s safe enough for Barry.”

“Yes, but this is _Barry’s_ dad we’re gonna see.”

“I want Iris to come too,” Barry said firmly.

“You two aren’t gonna tag team me,” Joe said sternly. Joe West, of course, was only one man who loved both his daughter and this boy dearly. If they don’t relent, he knew that he would. He just hoped that he could get them to back off.

“You’re not going without me,” Iris said.

 “We have to do this together, all three of us,” Barry said. Joe sighed as he realized that he’d lost.

“Alright, we’ll all go. But you have to promise to be careful.”

“Cross my heart,” Iris said.

“Hope to die,” Barry finished. He ate a mouthful of rhubarb pie. Then, he tried to speak with the bite in his mouth. The words were so incoherent than neither Joe nor Iris understood what he said. 

“Wait ‘til you’re done chewing, Barr.”

“We should bring my dad some rhubarb pie when we visit him. It’s his favorite.” Joe West did not know if he could make that happen, but the offer was so sweet and distinctly Barry.

“Of course, Barr. We’ll bring your dad a pie when we visit.” Young Barry Allen smiled as he realized that Joe West loved him too.

Someday Barry Allen will gain super speed of his own. Someday, Joe West will bring a mutilated corpse they believe to be the remains of Harrison Wells into Ned to resurrect and interview. Someday Iris West will realize that she’s been in love with Barry all along. Someday, they will be able to prove that Henry Allen did not murder Nora and he will get out of jail, but today is not that day. Today is the day that Barry Allen accepts that he cannot save his father from jail now, but that he will be able to someday. And that when that day comes, Joe West will be behind him one hundred percent.

Today is the day that young Barry Allen realizes that in losing a father he gained one too, and that has made all the difference. Today in the town of Couer d'Couers all wasn't well, but it was closer than it had been before. 


End file.
